


trivial matters

by leitmotifs (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/leitmotifs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis," Niall says, approaching the oldest boy as if he's about to discuss something absolutely profound and life changing, "who do you think tops, me or Harry?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	trivial matters

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know what i just wrote omfg  
> this is inspired by the recent amusing kerfuffle in the tags about who tops and who bottoms ahahah
> 
> [on tumblr](http://justlogorrheic.tumblr.com/post/71466345410/trivial-matters-harry-niall)

i.

"Louis," Niall says, approaching the oldest boy as if he's about to discuss something absolutely profound and life changing, "who do you think tops, me or Harry?"

"What," returns Louis, not really posing a question because he feels like he already knows where this is headed. He glances between the two boys in front him -- the two _grown adults_ : Harry with his arms crossed obdurately and Niall looking just as determined. "Like bunk beds?"

(No, probably not.)

"No," says Niall, affronted. "It's more serious than that."

"Like which one of you takes it in the arse," Louis deadpans. He should have figured this was coming after he saw the unclosed Tumblr page on the communal laptop. As far as he knows, Niall and Harry have far too much free time on their hands, even as world famous boy band singers, and spend a lot of that free time bowing their heads together over the laptop, scrolling and snickering at whatever they've decided to Google now.

They're not actually _together_ together, Louis thinks. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Sometimes they sit way too close and give each other heart eyes and hold hands when they don't think anyone's looking.

Niall and Harry stare at him, like _he_ 's the one saying ridiculous things.

"Okay," he says brightly, cheerfully, and attempts to go back to eating and end the conversation right there.

"I'm asking Zayn," Niall mumbles darkly.

 

 

ii.

They arrive at their latest venue and Niall and Harry are the first to step off, walking so that their shoulders bump every once in a while. They seem engaged in a conversation _not_ about bedroom positions, so Louis takes that as a good sign.

They're led into their dressing room, where the outfit coordinators and hairstylists are already waiting with their kits unpacked. Zayn is the first to be sent off to hair and Louis and Liam get pulled aside for wardrobe.

Niall and Harry are sitting on the couch together, apparently waiting to be called over, both of them staring intently at their phones.

Louis changes into his jeans and holds off on the shirt in favor of checking his phone. It's been fifteen minutes and neither Niall nor Harry have tweeted, which is notable.

He watches as Niall shifts closer to Harry -- either on purpose or not, Louis isn't sure -- and nudges his knee a little bit over the younger boy's. He watches as Harry doesn't glance up from his phone, but shifts his leg too so that his leg rests over Niall's.

"You're watching them too, aren't you?" says Liam suddenly. Louis barely hears him over the busy chatter, but he supposes he's been caught, so he just nods.

Niall moves again, knocking Harry's leg down.

"It's quite amazing," Louis snorts.

Harry nudges his elbow, then switches their legs again.

Finally, Niall looks up from his phone, and Liam and Louis watch as his baby blue eyes narrow at Harry's. They're not in an angle that they can see Harry's face, but judging from the way he also lifts his head and turns to Niall, he's probably glaring back.

Then, unexpectedly: Niall's expression softens to this look of _fondness_ and he doesn't say anything and neither does Harry, but the corner of his lips twitch into a brief smile. He moves one last time, this time letting his and Harry's legs press side by side. He's a centimeter away from practically cuddling the curly-haired boy.

It's baffling.

"Idiots," Louis decides sagely, and resumes dressing.

 

 

iii.

They're answering twitter questions when Niall and Harry flank him from the sides.

Liam blinks, looking between his two band mates.

"Liam," Harry says slowly, quietly, "we have to ask you a question."

Niall gives a tiny nod of assent and suddenly, Liam's a bit nervous.

"Who do you think tops?" Harry asks.

Liam is very glad that he's kept his microphone down and away from their mouths. He hopes the lighting hides most of his blush, because it honestly feels like his face is going to burn right off. "What?"

"Between me and Harry," Niall elaborates, peering at him. "Who do you think tops?"

Liam thinks he knows what they're asking, but he also hopes he's wrong, because they're in the middle of a concert and hundreds of fans are looking at them, unaware of what they're discussing.

"He thinks I do," says Niall without preamble.

"Oi." Harry leans over and shakes his fist.

"Don't you?"

They turn to him again.

Abruptly, their audience erupts into cheers, and apparently Zayn and Louis just did something funny. Once the noise dies down, Liam clears his throat.

"Uh," Liam stares wistfully at Zayn and Louis's backs, wishing that one of them would turn around and offer them a question to answer, "but you're short."

Silence.

"I thought we had something special, mate," says Niall accusingly.

"Sorry?" Liam tries, but the blond makes a show of holding his hand up and walking away. He thinks about all the cameras filming this as nothing more than a comical moment between them. Ignorance is bliss.

 

 

iv.

Ten minutes after the show has ended and they're back on the tour bus, Liam gets pulled to record something for the album, Zayn claims the first top bunk, and Louis goes for the safer option and slips into the one below his.

He's surrounded himself with blankets and closed his eyes when he hears Harry and Niall finally arrive.

"I'm on top," Louis hears Harry say.

"Fuck if you are," Niall says, sounding amused but also relatively serious. "You alr--"

"Too late." Louis hears the telltale creaking of the bed.

Niall's spewing a litany of curses, his accent becoming a lot more stronger as the profanities come, and Harry laughs softly.

There's more shuffling, more bumping. Louis is about to roll over and tell them to shut up, nicely of course, but the noises finally stop. He falls asleep easily after that.

In the morning, he beholds the sight of Niall and Harry, squished together on the bottom bunk. One of Harry's legs is hanging over the edge and he's got an arm thrown over his eyes, the other one under Niall's head and acting as his pillow. Niall is lying on his stomach with an arm slung over Harry's torso, face pressed against the taller boy's chest and mouth slightly agape and drooling.

Their chests rise and fall in tandem, a slow up, down, up, and Louis tries to imagine what might have happened when his eyes were closed: Harry slipping out of his bunk and crawling into Niall's, poking him in the sides until his eyes opened and he could properly say, "You're not getting sore about this, are you?"

Louis blinks that thought away.

Liam appears in the doorway and pauses, his eyes also falling on the couple.

 _Breakfast_ , Louis mouths to him and shoos him away and pulls the divider shut behind them; it feels like he's intruding on something private.

 

 

v.

"Can you pass the milk?" Liam tugs his shirt up and yawns into the fabric, waving in Niall's general direction. When no milk is presented to him, he looks up. Niall has the milk brandished in front of him, like it's his hostage.

"Say I top," he demands out of nowhere.

Louis groans.

"You're not even asking fairly," says Harry, but he sounds smug.

Zayn rubs his face and looks down at his cereal with a lot of newfound interest.

"Niall tops?" Liam questions, confused. He feels like he's out of the loop.

"Thank you!" Niall crows.

Harry looks nonplussed. "Do you even know what you just said, Liam?"

"Not really," Liam admits, but Niall is finally handing the milk over so he's not complaining. At his words, Niall freezes and snatches the milk right back away. Liam sighs.

"Say it with _meaning_ ," Niall presses.

Harry actually chuckles, taking a deliberate mouthful of Rice Krispies.

"I'm not sure what's going on," Liam tries to say. He also tries to reach for the milk, because damn it, he just wants his breakfast.

"Can we talk about something else," Louis says, again not asking. He's done with asking, he thinks; when dealing with HarryandNiall, one must assume the weirdest possible thing because there will be a ninety-nine percent chance that you guessed right.

"No." Niall clutches the milk stubbornly. "C'mon, guys, we need your honest opinions on this."

Louis drags both of his hands down his face and says, enunciating clearly, "No one wants to know who puts whose dick in whose arse, okay?"

(Liam is suddenly grateful that he hasn't started eating, because he would have choked. On the other hand, Zayn does.)

"Crass," Harry comments. "Some of us are trying to eat, Lou."

Louis makes a noise of incredulity.

"I don't understand." Liam puts his hands up. "But I think I'm going to go now."

"No, don't." Harry looks at Niall and Niall looks at Harry and they seem to have a silent exchange. Then the brunet straightens and clasps his hands together and, with a shit-eating grin on his face, addresses Liam in a Very Serious Voice, "Who do you suppose does the penetrating?"

 

 

vi.

Louis shoves them into the bathroom and locks the door.

"We're going to eat breakfast now," he calls loudly, and through the thin walls, Niall hears him mutter, "Why don't the bloody idiots just find out for themselves."

He turns to Harry, who's perched himself on the sink and devoting his attention to his phone.

"We can do that," Niall says to him, to the boy who he shares food and holds hands and laughs over jokes with. (And kisses. Sometimes. It's all wonky and they're still trying to work out the details.)

"Do what?" Harry doesn't even glance up.

Niall edges closer and pokes him on the thigh until the brunet finally looks at him. "Find out for ourselves," he clarifies.

Harry tilts his head. "I'm not sure that would work."

"Well, one thing would lead to another and it would just happen naturally and it'll feel right and... Yeah."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

The question settles in.

Just when Niall's starting to regret opening his mouth in the first place, Harry shrugs, puts his phone away, and opens his arms expectantly. "All right."

"All right?" echoes Niall.

"All right," affirms Harry.

There is a moment's pause, and then Niall steps closer and leans in and Harry meets him halfway and they kiss and it's clumsy and awkward but it's nice.

All right.

 

 

vii.

"So," Niall says cheerfully the next morning, dropping into his seat and reaching for the cereal box and digressing from Liam's blush, Louis's death glare, and Zayn not-so-subtly covering his ears.

Harry's leaning against the doorway, smiling.

Niall feels a pleasant buzz in his stomach and grins back, shyly. He'll have to get used to this. He can't wait to get used to this.

"So," he starts again, acknowledging their three other band mates like he's delivering a verdict, "it turns out we're versatile!"


End file.
